


he's okay (he's not okay)

by carefulren



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sickfic, Tumblr Prompt, Whump, but he's the only adult figure around, dad david needs some help, good thing max's 'i don't care' attitude really translates to 'i do care'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: the one where David tries to power through a migraine, and Max has had enough of it





	he's okay (he's not okay)

David first wakes around three am from a headache that’s drumming dully along his forehead and down to his neck. It’s not bad; it’s just uncomfortable, and he can’t find the perfect position to fall back to sleep because of it– or maybe that’s the anxiety bubbling along the thought that he’s prone to migraines. 

So he lies in bed, stomach twisting tighter and tighter into knots as the pain in his head increases until it feels as if there’s a throbbing mass growing over his brain and extending down his cheeks to his neck. It’s pulsing with hot pain, and he’s afraid to move because the ceiling above him as been swaying for a few hours now, making him more nauseous than he already feels. 

But, daylight creeps in from his broken blinds while birds chirp to signal the start of a new day. He should embrace it, as he always does, since he’s got double the load with Gwen gone, but he wants to shrink away from lights, sounds, everything… It makes him sad, and his eyes are welling with tears, stemmed both from his overactive emotions and the excruciating pain making a home in his head, before he can stop it.

“David!” 

Max’s voice sounds as if he’s got a microphone pressed to his lips, and he slams David’s door open hard enough to rattle the small room of the cabin, leaving David wincing as he weakly pushes up on one elbow. 

“What the fuck are you doing, David? Everyone’s– why the fuck are you crying?” 

Max’s voice is as loud and as angry as usual, and it screws into David’s head like a power drill. The kid’s also swaying in front of him, or… maybe he’s swaying in bed– he’s not sure of anything at the moment except the hot tears burning against his cheeks. 

He swipes at them with a shaking hand and offers what he hopes is an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Max. I’ve got a bit of a migraine.” His voice sounds oddly distant, and he frowns at this while Max scoffs. 

“Seriously, David? Stop being a fucking baby and get out here so you can run this damn camp you force us to come to.” 

David opens his mouth to protest, but the door slams before he can utter a single word. Outside his dusty window, he can hear shouting, fighting, everything that these kids aren’t supposed to be doing as if to prompt David’s authoritative presence, so he stumbles out of bed, grabbing onto the wall for needed support when the room tilts below his feet, and does his best to get ready for the day. 

*****

His mirror is smudged, but David’s able to see that he’s paler than normal. His shirt is rumpled, he can’t find his bandanna or his vest and he doesn’t have the energy to look, his hair is flat, messy, but he tests a smile anyway. It’s forced, rough, but it’s the best he’s got, and he turns away from the mirror with a deep sigh and heads out of the cabin. 

“About time!” 

“Why does David look weird?” 

“Space Kid keeps farting!” 

“David, what are we doing today?” 

The sun feels like someone is shining two bright flashlights into David’s eyes, and his stomach is churning uncomfortably. Standing is difficult, but he plasters on a smile and nods to the kids. 

“Everyone’s had breakfast?” He asks, and all answer at once in varying detail, and he tries to keep track and reply, all while keeping a smile. It’s hard, but he manages, at least he thinks he manages. 

He’s unaware that Max is watching him with a frown, and he remains unaware, as they hang out at the pier, walk a hiking trail, and break for lunch. Normally he would notice, but he’s got all his focus on not throwing up in front of his campers. 

He bypasses the lunch line and takes a seat as far away from windows and noise as possible– which is hard because the dining hall is a little on the smaller side. 

He curls in on himself, one hand wrapping around his stomach while he uses the other as a makeshift pillow, dropping his forehead against his arm to block out as much light as possible, but then he hears a slight creak from across him, and he lifts his head, offering Max the best smile he can muster. 

“What can I do for you, Max?” 

Their eyes meet, and David frowns at the brush of concern coating Max’s otherwise emotionless eyes. 

“What’s wrong, Max?” 

For a moment, Max doesn’t reply; he only looks down, as if in careful consideration, but then he wordlessly gets to his feet and walks around the table to latch a small hand to David’s thin arm. 

“Max, what are you–” 

“Shut the fuck up, and come with me.” 

“The others–” 

“Will fucking live, David,” Max bites out in a hushed tone, looking behind his shoulder at David with a scowl that David can’t argue against. 

David follows after Max out of the dining room and back to his own cabin in silence, more so because talking may lead to throwing up– he’s not too sure. 

“Lay down,” Max orders, and David stops in his tracks. 

“Max–” 

“David, just lay down before you pass out. Or throw up. Or both.” 

David stumbles to his bed and flops down onto it with a sharp hiss from the movement jostling his head. 

“Don’t call Gwen,” he mutters into his pillow, and Max only offers a gruff “fine” as he walks into the bathroom to wet a hand towel. 

“And, don’t run off,” David adds, rolling onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows as Max walks back into the room. “Seriously, Max. It’s dangerous–” 

“I won’t, David,” Max gripes out. “Jesus, just shut up the fuck up and lie down.” 

David obliges, and seconds later, a damp hand towel is draped over his forehead and eyes, leaving his nose and mouth exposed. 

“Stay here,” Max says quietly. “I’ll be back.” 

*****

When David wakes, the sun’s almost set, and he moves the towel to see Max flipping through a magazine in a chair pulled up to his bed. 

“The campers,” he croaks out, half propping himself up on one elbow, and Max looks up from the magazine with a light shrug. 

“I told them you would take us on a field trip out of this hell hole tomorrow if they play quiet mouths today.” 

David can’t help but smile, and for the first time today, it’s genuine. He leans back against his pillow with a deep sigh. 

“Thanks, Max.” 

“Shut up, David.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt sent to my tumblr from the lovely @taylortut ! 
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on tumblr (@toosicktoocare) 
> 
> Note: @rooster teeth camp camp writers, hit me up, lmao


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